


And Then There Was Buffy

by amidtheflowers



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/M, anniversary challenge fic, shenanigans to follow, spells and demons oh my!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-08-02 15:47:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16308083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amidtheflowers/pseuds/amidtheflowers
Summary: Buffy lands herself in detention on a Friday night, which should have been bad enough. Certain bleach-haired vampires just had to keep raising the bar.Set in Season 3, directly after Lovers Walk. Written for the 12 Years 12 Seasons Anniversary Challenge.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all! This fic was written for the Elysian Fields' 12 Years 12 Seasons Anniversary Challenge, Prompt #5. This was unbelievably fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy reading! The title and central theme of this fic is based on the Halloween episode of Boy Meets World titled 'And Then There Was Shawn'. If you're familiar with that episode, you'll know exactly where this is going and how fun it's gonna get. With a majorly Spuffy twist ;)
> 
> This story is broken in two parts--the next will be posted shortly. The beautiful banner was made by Angelic_Amy. 
> 
>   
> Enjoy!

**And Then There Was Buffy**

**-:-**

**Chapter 1**

**-:-**

Of the two and a half years that Buffy Summers had spent in Sunnydale High, witnessing monsters and demons and things she was better off never remembering, she’d never been more certain than now that Principal Snyder was, in reality, a demon.

“I’m serious,” said Buffy, very seriously. “He has to be some sort of cave demon. Or a people-hating demon. Or—ooh! Another bug demon! The way he stares at you with those big, beady eyes? Very demony.”

Xander raised his hand. “Can we make a pact right here and now never to bring up demon bugs, ever again? I’m still having nightmares over the last one that tried laying its eggs in me.” Xander shuddered violently and wiggled in his seat.

“I dunno, Buffy.” Willow idly swirled a French fry on her tray. “He seems pretty of the humans to me. What’s  _not_  human is how much he hates people. He’s like the lovechild of The Grinch and Ebenezer Scrooge.”

“Hey, I resent that analogy.” Xander crossed his arms over the lunch table. “The Grinch’s heart swelled up and all the little Whos sang, and Scrooge ended up being a nice old guy who gave everyone presents. Snyder would rather have a hernia than show any human emotion besides annoyance.”

“But that’s not—”

“Guys,” Buffy said loudly, and Xander and Willow paused. “We’re completely missing the point here. Snyder. Me. Detention on a Friday night— _tonight_! And our operating theory that said principal is of demonic origins and should potentially be slayed before tonight’s Bronze-y plans?”

“Sorry, Buff,” Xander said sheepishly. “It’s just, you can’t slay everyone who’s mean to us. Sometimes people are just plain old mean, no demon qualities included.”

“Y-yeah, and besides, it’s just a few hours,” Willow added helpfully. “Maybe you’ll even get out early and make in time to see the  _Dingoes_  play.”

“Still going, then?” Xander asked. His tone was somewhat hesitant.

Willow swallowed, nodding. “Yeah.  _Yes_. Because I want to be supportive, and—and really show that I care. About Oz. And  _you_ ,” she pointed at Xander quickly, “cannot be, um, be too attached at the hippy now that Buffy is in detention. We can’t…we can’t make it seem like we’re…”

“I get it, Willow. No proximity.” Xander held up his hands. “And it’s just the way I like it, because I don’t, in fact, have any sort of lusty or otherwise feelings for you. All in the past. Right?”

“Right. Super duper past. And I…” Willow faded off, her gaze following after Oz from across the cafeteria. He had gotten up to throw his trash, ignorant of Willow’s attention, and she let out a soft, unhappy sigh. “I miss him.”

Buffy gently stroked Willow’s hand. “We know you do, Will. You’ll get through this.”

Willow smiled at Buffy before it sharply turned into a panicked frown. “Oh god. Buffy, I’m so sorry. Here I am being Mopey Gal when you’ve just had the whole Angel experience too.”

Buffy forced a smile and shook her head. “Don’t worry about that. I’m…I’m getting through it. I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Xander tilted his head, leaning a little closer. “Want us to sock the guy in the eye for you? Give him the ol’ razzle dazzle?”

“ _No_  sockings please.” Buffy hid a smile. “He doesn’t deserve it. You can’t blame someone for having feelings.”

Willow and Xander exchanged a pointed look, then quickly looked away. Buffy suppressed a sigh. She wondered how long that particular weirdness was going to last.

Finding out about Willow and Xander’s secret, illicit romance had been the bizarre cherry on top of the nightmarish day she’d had two weeks ago. The tangible discomfort around Angel, the unsettling words Spike had departed with before gleefully storming out of Sunnydale, and the metal rod that had Cordelia hospitalized for three days, were a lot to digest alone.

Honestly, Buffy didn’t fully understand what had happened there with Willow and Xander. The second they were found out, it was as if all that heat and desire between them fizzled away instantaneously. What had been the point? Why risk compromising the amazing relationships they’d already had?

Buffy didn’t understand, and she definitely didn’t understand when her own backbone had grown strong enough to permanently end things with Angel. Ended it, and hadn’t cried yet. God, that had to have made her some kind of monster too.

Still. She might not understand any of these things, but she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to do her best to get past it and support her friends who needed her the most right now.

“Alright, guys. Back to Snyder. I’m thinking: ask Giles about demons who like administrative positions in public schools. There’s gotta be something, right?”

“Sure there is,” said Xander agreeably. “Good old Giles will have just the thing to get you out of detention tonight so you can have some serious TLC at the Bronze.”

“I still can’t believe he gave you detention for staring into space during class,” Willow shook her head in disbelief.

Buffy rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “Yeah. And when he realized I was actually paying attention to every word in class, he dished out detention for the length of my skirt instead. What is this, the fifties?”

“I hate that. I can’t even begin to unpack how sexist and antiquated that rule is.” Willow glowered, pushing away her tray of food. “And you know it was specifically directed towards you—there were at least five other girls in class wearing skirts way shorter.”

“Yeah. I do consider it a consolation that Cordelia’s got detention too,” Buffy said cheerfully. That had been particularly satisfying. After Snyder had assigned Buffy four hours of detention (two for the skirt and another two for Buffy’s unsavory gesture behind his back), Cordelia had unwisely cracked, “Does generally poor IQ qualify? I’d add on a few more hours, sir.”

The look Snyder had given Cordelia was almost worth the detention tonight.  _Almost_.

“Don’t worry, Buff. Late detentions like these are usually unsupervised,” Xander told her. “Willow and I can come sneak you out halfway through. Then you’ll definitely be able to make it to the Bronze tonight. Perfect plan, right?”

Buffy sighed, propping her jaw on her hand. “Yep. Perfect.”

**-:-**

Principal Snyder sucked.

 _S-U-C-K-E-D_. Buffy traced the words repeatedly in bright, glittery pink ink in her notebook.

And not in the more often than not too literal I-want-to-suck-your-blood way that was common in Sunnydale thanks to its vamp population; but in the very real possibility that he was a spawn of Satan way. What kind of tyrant assigned detention on a Friday night? Seriously? Who? And a Friday night that the  _Dingoes_  were playing at the Bronze, no less? He was positively evil.

Giles and his arsenal of demon books, unfortunately, said otherwise.

Buffy went over the ‘S’ again, this time glaring pointedly at Snyder. He stared back, hands neatly folded atop the teacher’s desk at the front of the classroom and eyes eerily wide.

 She was a good half hour early to detention, another thing she hated. She hadn’t the heart to tell Joyce about the detention. She ended up leaving home with the excuse of heading to Willow’s, but went straight back to school instead, 5:30pm sharp.

So far only one other student was in the room. He was already there by the time Buffy walked in the room, sitting in the very back of the room and curled over the desk fast asleep. His black hoodie was over his head and completely hiding his face

Buffy glanced at the clock. 5:32.

Snyder stared at her, and though not a single muscle moved on his face, she could’ve sworn he looked smug.

Buffy sighed. Part of her wished a demon would come crashing through the window, if only to make the time pass by faster.

**-:-**

Spike, the demon of choice for Buffy’s future predicament, did not come crashing through one of Sunnydale High’s windows. Hundred-year-old, esteemed vampires didn’t just  _crash_   _through._ The second Spike had become a Master vamp on the Hellmouth, he’d made that a rule.

No, Spike didn’t need theatrics anymore.

He would simply strut in.

It didn’t take long to find the bint. There were only three places the Slayer would haunt—her school, her home, or the piss poor excuse of a club downtown. He’d barely walked ten steps from his car to the school when he caught her scent.

Smirking, Spike indulged in the luxury of leaning back against a tree and observing her through the window.

The sun had set low enough at this time of year that he didn’t risk an accidental dusting. It worked favorably for him. Not a lot of sunny interruptions retracing his steps to Dru or the hellish drive back to California. Not that he really minded, no. He’d come back to Sunnyhell with single-minded focus.

_You taste like ashes._

Spike clenched his jaw and fixed his attention to the window. The Slayer, with all honeyed skin and blonde sodding hair, was sitting in a classroom. Alone. Odd, that. Didn’t school get out earlier than this to let all the kiddies do their schoolwork?

He leaned in a little further. No, not alone. There was a bloke in the back of the classroom, snoring. Spike made a mental note to snack on him after he killed the Slayer.

Spike peered closely. He could sense a third heartbeat in the room and followed it to an older man sitting at the front. Come to think of it, he looked familiar.

Suddenly, Spike was grinning.

“Sugarplum Slayer got herself a time out, did she?” Spike chuckled richly and returned his gaze to the Slayer, pressing his hands against the window.

He saw the moment she sensed him. Her back suddenly straightened, shoulders rising up. He watched with amusement as her head slowly, haltingly turned to the window. Green eyes connected with blue.

The color drained from her face.

Well, fuck. What a sight that was! Seemed like the prissy little bitch who’d stomped all over him two weeks ago had fled, leaving behind a chit who was on her guard just at the  _sight_  of him.

A pathetic loser, was he? Not any fucking longer.

With a grin, Spike rolled his weight forward on booted toes and waved.

Her eyes went wide and she shot up from her seat, and Spike knew it was time. Leaving the Slayer with a parting smirk, Spike leisurely strode around the school building and straight through the front entrance, strutting down the halls while whistling a jaunty tune.

He had a Slayer to bag, after all.

**-:-**

“Sir, we need to leave  _now_.”

Snyder gave her the strongest of loathing. “Sit down, Summers, or I’ll make sure you have detention every single Friday until you graduate.”

“You don’t understand,” Buffy said through her teeth. She glanced worriedly at the door. Her skin was prickling with alarm. She could  _feel_ him inside the school, feel him getting closer. This wasn’t like last time where he’d come to her, sniveling and weeping with half-cocked threats and imploring at an empty bench. This Spike had smile wickedly at her with clear intent in his expression.

This was going to be a fight to the death.  _Again._

“If you don’t leave now, you will die. Do you understand?” Buffy pleaded desperately.

Snyder gave Buffy another look of disdain. “No, I don’t believe I will die. I won’t ask you again to take. A. Seat.”

Glaring, Buffy stood her ground. The tinglies, edged with a shuddery curl down her spine that she was starting to associate with Spike, prickled warning along her skin.

He was here.

A shadow fell over them. Buffy and Snyder looked up to find Spike towering at the threshold of the classroom, his hand wrapped around the doorknob. A grin curled over his lips and he said, “Hello, gorgeous.”

Buffy ignored the shiver down her spine and pursed her lips, glaring. “Spike.”

Snyder looked between the two of them and stood up quickly. “I remember you.” He pointed at Spike. “You’re one of the kids that broke the windows of our staff room.”

Spike quirked a brow and Buffy could see the pure joy he was getting out of this. “You caught me.”

“Principal Snyder—” Buffy began, narrowly shifting to block his view from Spike, but Snyder held up his hand.

“You.” Snyder glared at Buffy. “Go back to your desk. And you,” he pointed at Spike, “take a seat.”

Spike’s smirk only seemed to widen even further. “Over there, yeah?” Spike nodded at the rows of empty desks. Snyder’s eyes narrowed. Spike sauntered towards them but not before stopping in front of Buffy. His eyes glittered with amusement. “Don’t know if you realize, sir, but this one here’s a troublemaker.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Buffy hissed, rounding on Snyder. “He doesn’t even go here! Just take that other sleeping kid with you and leave before—”

Snyder slapped his hand on the desk, making Buffy jump a little. “Not another word! Sit down this instant, the both of you.  _Now._ ”

Spike gave an eerie smile. With a flair of his coat, which he then shrugged off and folded over the back of a chair, Spike slid into the seat directly behind hers and clasped his hands atop the desk. He was the picture of obedience, even throwing in a genially innocent smile. Buffy imagined all the ways she could dust him where he sat.

Part of her considered landing a solid hit on Snyder’s head and getting this over and done with now, but that still left the sleeping kid at risk of getting hurt. Buffy glanced at Spike again. He was sitting perfectly still, waiting to see her move. What game was he playing?

Buffy bit her lip. One thing was certain: if she didn’t go along with this, she’d never know. Holding in a frustrated sigh, Buffy returned to her seat.

A tremor ran down her neck when Spike leaned in to whisper, “Oi, you got last week’s English notes?”

“Shut. Up.” Buffy said through her teeth.

Spike leaned back against his chair. Three seconds later he pitched forward again. “I hear Stacy got to second base with the football captain, you reckon that’s true?”

She could hear the laughter in his words, his breath tickling her ear and making her visibly shiver.

She heard him hold his breath. Could feel him watching her. She did not need a soulless killer filing away what made her tick, instead inclining her head a little to glance at him. “I ‘reckon’ I’ll fit your dust in a jar if you talk to me again,” Buffy whispered, flicking her gel pen against her notebook. Spike didn’t take to the threat and leaned even closer to her, lifting a little from his seat.

“What are you doing?”

“Ooh, see what you’ve written there, Slayer. Could show you where to put that word to use. I wouldn’t mind a bit.”

Buffy frowned and looked at her notebook. Eyes going comically wide, Buffy slammed the notebook shut. She heard him chuckling again; patronizing little worm.

“No talking,” Snyder barked.

Spike settled back, smiling. Buffy rolled her eyes, tearing out the page he’d called her out on and crumpled it tightly into a ball.

The tension in the air was cut when suddenly the phone rang. Snyder gave Buffy a hard look at before standing and picking up the phone. “Snyder.” He slipped outside and closed the door just enough for the cord to remain undisturbed.

In an instant Buffy was up with a stake poised in the air, and Spike was growling around his fangs.

“So, Slayer, tell me. What naughty thing did you do to wind up in here on this Friday night?”

“You shouldn’t have come back,” Buffy said in a low, deadly voice, her fingers gripping the stake tightly.

Spike’s mouth quirked. “I can’t say I feel the same. There’s nothing more I’ve wanted to do in a long time.” He paused to think about it, tilting his head. “In fact,” he said, slowly straightening and meeting her dead in the eyes, “it’s something I should’ve done the second Angelus had his sword at your throat, all those months ago.”

The name made Buffy flinch, despite her efforts to stamp it down. Spike caught it anyway. “ _Oh_. That stung, didn’t it? Not so friendly-like anymore with my dear sire, is it?”

“Shut up.”

 “What was it this time? ‘It’s not you, it’s me’? But I thought you two were such great friends?” He was openly laughing when the door swung open, and the sound got stuck in his throat.

Caught in a mutual glance of indecision, Buffy and Spike dropped their stances and slid back into their seats. Snyder strode in, replacing the phone on the receiver and started gathering his papers from the front desk.

“Are you leaving?”  

Snyder glanced at Buffy. “As much as I’d enjoy spending my Friday watching over delinquents, I have work to do in my office. Don’t think for a minute that my absence means you are not being watched. You are  _always_ being watched.”

With a parting glare at the Sleeping Kid, Principal Snyder left the classroom.

The desks squealed from the speed Spike and Buffy jumped up.

Spike got the first blow; just as Buffy whirled around in attack he clipped her on the jaw, sending her reeling backwards into another desk. Regaining her balance quickly, she jabbed two uppercuts that he frustratingly blocked. His hands locked around her wrists and yanked her closer.

“This is it, Slayer,” Spike panted, deadly excitement lighting his eyes. The blue of his irises was dwarfed by how black his pupils had expanded, cataloguing every shuddering breath that left her, every muscle that twitched her mouth. “You an’ me. No Acathla, no Dru or Angel, not sodding truce or spell or whatever have you. This time I’m gonna kill you.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “Why are you even here?” Her hands twisted around his grip to clamp on his wrists as well. She let a sneer slip into her voice. “Dru dump you again? Left you for another Chaos demon?”

“It was a Fungus demon this time, and it doesn’t matter why I’m here!” Spike cursed when Buffy yanked out of his grasp and sent him flying across the room. She didn’t give him a chance to gather himself before she grabbed him by the lapels and hauled him roughly against the wall.

“Why? Why does this keep happening to me?” Buffy shoved Spike harder against the wall. “Can’t I just have one day when nothing happens? Just the one! One damn minute where I can sit and mope and be a teenager but  _nooo_ , there’ll be a demon or a nest of vamps or Spikes or Angels and I’m sick of it! I’m done! I’m tired and I’m done and I have other things to do than kick your sorry ass, which I’m going to have to do. Again!”

“Poor little Slayer, her life is so hard,” Spike snarled and shoved Buffy off. “Newsflash sweetheart, life  _is_ hard. This is it.” He spread out his arms. “Leave the fairytales for your pigtail days, baby, because it will never get easier.”

Buffy threw three consecutive punches and relished as Spike jerked back by each one. She clenched her jaw, forcing the wave of emotion to stay down where it threatened to rise in her throat. “That’s not good enough.” Her lips curled around those words with disquiet.

Roaring, Spike stormed to her and Buffy charged at him, their fists raised for attack.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?”

They froze, fists paralyzed midair.

Cordelia stood at the doorway, arms crossed and a pearl white pump tapping against the floor.

“Cordy. Get out of here,” Buffy said through her teeth. Spike was poised in front of her, unmoving, his hands still closed into fists. Slowly, he tilted his head to look at Cordelia.

She blinked, recognition lighting her eyes. “Hey, I know you.”

“Cordelia.” Buffy’s stare was emphatic. The Sleeping Kid let out a snore.

Cordelia looked away from Spike and rolled her eyes. “Right. I can see you’re busy with vampire nonsense as usual. Call me when it’s over—I am  _not_  redoing detention just because you decided to wreck the school again.”

Buffy retrained her eyes on Spike. He tilted his head at her. “What, not concerned for the sod over there sleeping?”

“I won’t have to. You’ll be dust before you could even get near his neck,” Buffy said boldly. She believed it for the most part. He started on her again, lips curled back in a sneer, and she noticed for the first time that he wasn’t wearing his demon face. Wasn’t that something all vamps did? Attacks went synonymously with bone-crunching demon faces. Spike didn’t look even a little incline to drop his.

He didn’t wait for Cordelia’s complaints to end before launching himself at her suddenly. It caught her by surprise and damn— _damn, damn, god damn_ —he managed to get her in a chokehold. Not a very good one, but still a serious dent on her slayerly ego. She kicked her feet high in the air and managed to use the momentum against him, throwing him up and over her shoulder and straight onto his back.

Near the door, Cordelia cleared her throat. “Uh, guys? Not to interrupt, but…”

The pure look of contempt that Spike threw at her made her pause. “You’re holding back.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Um, you guys…”

“You. Are. Holding. Back.” Spike leveled a seriously pissed off glare at Buffy as he pushed off the floor. He loomed over her, eyes flashing yellow. “Bloody fight me, Slayer.”

“I literally just tossed you to the ground!” Buffy exclaimed, her anger rising. “Where do you get off saying I’m not trying to kill you?”

“Never said you weren’t trying,” Spike replied. “You’re just not giving it your all. Is this what it’s come to, Slayer? One blip in the romantic end of things and you’re as weak as a hairless kitten?”

“You’re one to talk,” Buffy laughed incredulously. “Who was in my kitchen two weeks ago crying over his ex-girlfriend? You couldn’t even fend off a wooden spoon.”

“That was different,” Spike growled lowly.

“Listen, I get that you two are having a moment, but something’s seriously wrong here,” Cordelia interrupted them again, exasperated.

“What?” Buffy snapped.

Shooting Buffy a dry look, Cordelia held up her hand. “I can’t leave the room.”

She moved her hand through the doorway but an invisible force stopped her before she could go further. A barrier rippled around her fingers, distorting the view of the hallway and the row of lockers ahead. She did it again and the invisible barrier pushed her hand back.

Ignoring Spike’s look of confusion, Buffy ran past him and Cordelia moved out of the way. Buffy tried to leave the classroom and gasped when she felt a rubbery, invisible force repel her backwards. The doorway rippled again just as it had around Cordelia’s hand.

“No,” Buffy whispered, panicked. She pushed—again and again. And in turn, she was thrown further and further back by the barrier.

From the end of the classroom, Spike started laughing as the last attempt had Buffy thrown back and falling flat on her ass. “This is almost more fun to watch than my kicking your arse. Do it again.”

Buffy ignored him. Scrambling to her feet, Buffy felt along the doorjamb. It cold—chillingly so. She hissed as the intensity of it burned her fingers and reared back her hand.

Cordelia peered over Buffy’s shoulder and frowned. “Did you just get frostbite?”

“I…yeah.” Buffy glanced up at Cordelia with dazed wonder. “It…it’s a spell. Someone’s cast a serious spell and now we’re all trapped in this classroom.” Her gaze traveled reluctantly to Spike, who was finally showing the first signs of alarm. “Together.”

“Did you just say spell? We’re under a spell?” said Spike, his voice losing all mockery at her expense. He rounded on one of the windows and threw it open. Buffy watched as Spike attempted to shove his arm through, only to have himself forced back.

Breathing hard, Spike’s eyes met Buffy’s. “For fuck’s sake, Slayer, can’t you have one bloody normal day where I can kill you in peace?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the final part! My first completed fic on Elysian Fields, hooray! biggrin
> 
> There's some spookiness here since I'd originally intended this to have a Halloweeny theme, having been published in October. But really, it's more spoopy than spooky so I think you'll be fine :P This fic is intentionally silly at times and much with the banter, so if that's your thing you're in good hands here.
> 
> Oh, and there's smut. Sort of. 
> 
> Enjoy! x

**Chapter 2**

**-:-**

“A spell has us trapped in here?” Cordelia repeated. “Seriously? Why does being around you always involve a load of suffering?”

“Here, here.” Spike prowled around the room, his attention fixed on the doorway that held them captive.

“I didn’t make the spell happen,” Buffy replied shortly, her patience already wearing thin. “It just…happened.”

“So now what? We sit here until undead Billy Idol makes a snack out of all of us?” Cordelia snapped.

“If it helps, I’d save you for last.” Spike flashed a fanged grin at Cordelia.

Cordelia seemed to puff up at that, and Buffy rolled her eyes. “Actually, it does.”

“Ta.”

“Nobody’s getting eaten. We are getting out of here,” Buffy scowled, firming her stance in an attempt to take control of the situation. “We—hey!”

Spike barreled past Buffy and threw himself bodily at the doorway, only to be thrown back by the invisible barrier. He growled, righted himself, and punched the barrier hard.

Again.

And again.

A chill shuddered through her and Buffy wrapped her arms around herself, glancing at the walls of the classroom. Colder, it was definitely getting colder. Cordelia started rubbing her arms as Spike laid his assault into the cursed barrier.

“God, would you quit it already? Hitting it won’t work,” Buffy finally snapped as Spike made his twelfth blow to the doorway, only to be flung several feet back.

Spike rounded on her as he shook out his hand, pale knuckles now bloody. “That right? Go on then, Slayer. This is your area of sodding expertise here, yeah?  _You_ get us out.”

“I will,” Buffy said through her teeth, clenching hard to keep them from chattering. Why was it getting so cold? “Just not right this second.”

“This is ridiculous.” Cordelia’s bitchy voice had finally come out to play. “I can’t just stand around waiting to be rescued. And where’s Principal Snyder? Isn’t he supposed to be watching us for detention?”

“He left a few minutes ago,” Buffy told her, biting her lip. “I don’t know when he’s coming back.”

“He’s probably dead,” Spike muttered as he carefully felt along the walls. His fingers flinched a little at the biting cold that met his fingertips.

Buffy and Cordelia stared at him.

“What?” Spike pointed at the doorway. “You think blokes like that jar of mayonnaise survive demonic curses?”

Buffy glowered.

“What are you even doing here? Thinking of enrolling into our school now?” Cordelia’s irritation, already high from the Willow and Xander thing two weeks ago, had finally redirected at Spike. Buffy had to hand it to her; Cordelia’s cattiness worked well against demons twice her strength.

“Came here to finish a job,” Spike glanced at Buffy with an expression of loathing. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

Buffy matched his glare with her own. “Oh golly, I’m so scared.”

“You should be, Slayer.”

“The day I’m scared of you, Spike, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he challenged.

“You won’t know, because you’ll already be dust!” Buffy blustered angrily.

Spike ticked up a brow, smiling a little. “…So you’ll be scared of me even when I’m dust? ‘M flattered, pet.”

“I—that’s not what I meant!”

“’S what you said, love—”

“ _Don’t_ call me love.”

“Oooh, hit a sore spot, did I?”

“The only sore spot you’ll ever hit—”

Spike’s eyebrows lifted higher, smirking.

Buffy’s face turned bright red. God, where had witty Buffy gone? “You’re a pig, Spike.”

“Haven’t said a word, Slayer; you dug that grave yourself.”

“The only grave—”

Spike growled loudly in frustration. “Oh give it a rest, Slayer, that saying is dead! God, I’ve had better arguments with Fyarl demons!”

Cordelia cut them off, which at this point was probably for the best given Buffy was on a fast track of losing the argument with Spike.  _Spike_. “So, what about that guy?” Cordelia pointed at the Sleeping Kid.

Buffy turned to look at him and frowned. “He was already asleep when I got here.”

“Who is he? I’ve never seen him before.”

“I think he’s a year below us?”

“Do you think we should wake him up?” Cordelia wondered aloud.

“Here’s a nifty idea,” Spike interrupted, his tone mocking. “Maybe he’s the reason we’re all bloody trapped in here.”

“Yeah, because people can totally do that when they’re  _asleep_.” Cordelia retorted, her words heavily laden with sarcasm.

Spike’s gaze shifted to Buffy, expectant. If she were honest, the thought had occurred to her. The likelihood of it was pretty slim, but… “It’s…possible,” Buffy relented.

“Well, then.” Spike stalked though the rows of desks and headed straight to the kid.

“No!” Buffy leapt forward and grabbed him around the arm before he could reach the kid. “You can’t kill him!”

“Like hell I won’t!”

“Spike!”

Spike tried shoving her off, growling as Buffy pulled him back by the arms like a rope in tug-of-war, her feet sliding along the floor while he strained to take a step. “We don’t—even—know—if he caused this,” Buffy grunted out.

“We’ll find out when I eat him.”

“No!”

“Bloody— _gerroff me, Slayer!_ ”

By now Buffy had clambered onto Spike’s back and squeezed her arms tightly around his neck, locking her legs around him and effectively trapping any movement. He croaked out a furious growl and threw himself backwards, shoving into the desks and making Buffy cry out as her body collided into them. He bent backwards, desperately trying to wriggle her off, when—

“Hey…wha’s goin’ on?”

Buffy and Spike froze, lifting their heads to glance at the kid who was no longer asleep. He’d dropped the hood back and she saw that he was young, probably a freshman, with short blond hair and blinking owlishly at the pair of them.

“Nothing, um—nothing.” Buffy wriggled out from underneath Spike’s back and brushed her clothes in place. She snuck a glance at Spike and found him watching the kid intently, eyes narrowed.

“Oh.” He looked away, glancing briefly at Cordelia, who was still standing at the front of the room with her arms crossed. The room was thick with awkward tension.

The kid cleared his throat. “So, uh…”

“I’m Buffy,” Buffy blurted. “This is, well, he doesn’t matter that much. And that’s—”

“I know. You’re Cordelia.” The boy smiled a little bashfully, and Cordelia’s eyebrow rose. “I’m Zach.”

“You know me? What am saying; of course you know me,” Cordelia grinned, flipping her hair back with a flick of her wrist.

“Zach! See, that’s a normal, non-demony name that wouldn’t do things that some might think they’d do,” Buffy said with a wide smile, giving Spike a deliberate look. Spike rolled his eyes and resumed pacing around the classroom again, fingers testing the barriers along the windows again.

“So where’s Snyder? Did I sleep through detention?” Zach asked.

“He went out,” said Cordelia.

“Briefly,” Buffy said quickly. “He, um, he’ll be back.”

“Mayo-nnaise…” Spike sang under his breath.

Buffy shot him a warning glare.

“Cool. I think I’ll use the bathroom then.” Zach stood up and stretched.

Panic went through her, and she exchanged an unsure look with Cordelia. “A-are you sure about that?” Buffy asked.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Zach asked, confused.

“There could be, you know, uh…”

“Ants,” Cordelia suggested, looking at Zach grimly. “All around. I heard someone talking about it in the hallway. Super gross, right?”

Zach sent another shy smile. “Nah, it’ll be fine.”

“But…” Buffy’s hands twitched, wanting to stop him before he realized he couldn’t leave.

“Let him go, Slayer, you’re starting to scare the boy,” Spike drawled. “I know  _I_ want to see him go.”

“Shut  _up_ , Spike.” Buffy gritted her teeth.

Zach’s face lit up as he shook his head. “You guys are weird, but cool for the concern. I’ll be right back.” With that, the freshman marched towards the door, hands in his pockets, and passed right through the doorway and disappeared down the hall.

Buffy’s jaw dropped.

“Did he just…?” Cordelia started slowly.

“Does that mean he…he really is the reason…”

“No. Kid’s clean,” Spike said shortly. “I would’ve smelled the magic on him once he was awake. No, he only did what we’ve been tryin’ to do for the last twenty bleeding minutes.”

“But how?” Buffy shook her head, trying to work it in her head but it wasn’t adding up. “It doesn’t make any sense. He just…walked right through.”

“It’s not cold anymore.” Cordelia glanced between Buffy and Spike. “Anyone notice that?”

Rolling his eyes, Spike headed straight for the windows. “As fun as this has not been, I’ll be seeing y— _bloody hell!_ ” Spike’s hand was thrown back the second he reached for a window. “What the hell is this?”

Frowning, Buffy reached towards the windows and felt the  _zing_ of an invisible force repelling her touch. Pulling her hand back, Buffy walked to the doorway and went right through it, standing firmly outside in the hall.

Huh.

She turned around to face Cordelia and Spike inside. “I think only the barrier to this room was broken.”

Buffy could tell Spike was furious. He stomped forward until he stopped right in front of her, eyes glittering with hatred. He took heavy, unmeasured breaths through his nose in a show of barely controlled anger. “You are going to fix this, Slayer,” Spike growled quietly, fists clenched. “And then you and I are going to take a little walk outside, and have at it like we were always meant to. Once and for all.”

Anger flared in Buffy. Who was he to lay claim to her like this? To show up in her school, in her life, demanding another fight that he had to know he was going to lose? To take over her day, her peace of mind, her attempt at normalcy when everything in her life was falling apart piece by broken piece?

“You know what? Fine.” Buffy’s voice went low. Slayer low. Spike tilted his head back in mild surprise. “You want to die so badly? Fine. I’ll fight you. And I’ll beat you, because I always do, and this time I won’t hold back when I take you down.”

Blue irises flared with flecks of gold, and Spike leaned in close to Buffy’s face. “Fucking. Finally.”

They stared at each other for several moments, neither wanting to back down and look away first. Spike’s breathing calmed down to almost nothing, the hatred in his gaze turning pensive, still. Buffy found herself irritated that his eyes were that annoyingly blue, like ice over clear water, and that it was too bad he was a vampire because he must have been very pretty when he was alive, and having looks that good was such a waste on an undead demon.

“God, will it be like this every five minutes with you two?” Cordelia snapped angrily. “I seriously can’t take it anymore. Get over yourselves and let’s solve this so I can get the hell  _out_  of here!”

Buffy looked away first and turned to Cordelia. “Sorry, Cordy. Let’s just…let’s think about this for a minute, okay?”

Cordelia looked at her expectantly. Spike didn’t react at all. Buffy supposed that was the best she was going to get.

“Alright.” Buffy inhaled a little unsteadily. “So. We got trapped once Snyder left. Then Cordelia came in. Cordelia could come in, but immediately couldn’t leave.” A light went off in her head. “So does that mean anyone can get into the school, but you can’t get out?”

“I guess?” Cordelia looked uncertain.

“The spell must’ve happened quickly. We started noticing the cold, and touching the walls is a huge no-go. Frostbite danger.” Buffy chewed her lower lip. She glanced up to find Spike staring at her.

“What?” she bit out.

“The boy. When he left, the cold went down. Almost warm, even,” Spike replied, with a surprising lack of bite in his tone. He was taking this seriously.

“So: cold means trapped, warm means free.” Buffy nodded. “So where does Zach fit into this?”

“Somehow he was able to walk through,” said Cordelia. “I don’t know about you, but I say we grab him and shove him through the front entrance so we can leave.”

Before Buffy could open her mouth to respond, Zach came out of the boys’ bathroom. He came to an abrupt halt when he spotted them. “You guys weren’t like, waiting for me, were you?”

“Change of plans, kid, it’s your lucky day.” Spike grabbed Zach roughly by the collar and hauled down the hallway. “We’re busting you out.”

“Spike, let go of him!” Buffy exclaimed as she ran forward to catch up with them.

“Dude, get off!” Zach struggled against Spike’s superhuman grip. To which he vamped out and gave a threatening little snarl. Which, Buffy could tell was a small fraction of the terror Spike could actually instill, and this was probably Spike’s version of ‘scary enough to follow me, not enough to piss himself’. It even could’ve been thoughtful snarling, but still Buffy wanted exactly zero percent of this.

Zach gave a terrified look. “Oh,  _jeez_ …”

Buffy grabbed Zach’s arm and pulled them to a stop. “Spike. This isn’t the way.”

“Actually, it is. We have a date, Slayer, remember?” Spike smiled sardonically and pulled Zach along, so naturally Buffy had to try stopping that so she held on trying to get him out of Spike’s grip. The closer they got to the entrance hallway, though, the less Buffy thought it was important to stop Spike. Like, they were nearly there now. What was the point in stopping if they’d gotten this far? And hey, if Zach was a natural curse breaker then, really, it wouldn’t be  _so_ bad to—

“Whoa! What the—what’s going on?!”

Just as they wheeled around a corner to the entrance hallway they nearly ran over Xander and Willow.

“Spike!” Xander gave an unmanly squeak, the hoagie in his left hand smushing in his hand from his suddenly tight grip. Willow gaped at the three of them, eyes darting in alarm between Cordelia and Buffy.

“Xander and Willow. Of  _course_.” Cordelia said with disdain. Buffy practically saw the Bitchy Mask fall over her face.

Willow took a surreptitious step away from Xander. “W-what’s going on? Who’s Spike holding? Oh my god is he going to eat him?”

“Of course he’s gonna eat him, I was nearly vampire chow two weeks ago!” Xander pointed at Spike dramatically with the squashed hoagie.

“This is Zach, the freshman,” said Buffy, patiently.

“Hey,” Zach waved weakly under Spikes firm grip. “He might eat me, I’m not sure.”

“He’s not going to eat you,” Buffy said firmly. She glared at Spike. “Right?”

Spike scoffed. “No, but I would’ve when I thought he’d cast the spell.”

“There’s a spell?” Willow paled.

“There’s always a spell.” Xander wiped the marinara sauce from his hand onto his jeans.

“You guys shouldn’t have come,” Buffy said worriedly. “Now you’re trapped here too.”

“How could we not come? We were jailbreaking the Buffster, remember? Pre-planned Bronze-y fun times?” Xander grinned. “So, what kinda spell are we talking about here?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Cordelia gave Xander a nasty look. “But, as always, all you’ve managed to do is ask stupid questions and oh, look! Another scenario where you’re trapped with Willow? Should I point you to the nearest broom closet?”

Willow turned even paler. “Cordelia…”

Xander flinched. “Hey. I said I was sorry. Not my fault you wouldn’t return any of my calls.”

“Bite me.”

A blast of cool air went through the hallway but they hardly noticed. Only Buffy did, and her eyes narrowed. She glanced at Spike.

“Yeah, I felt that,” he said quietly.

“Guys,” Buffy said loudly and turned to the group. “I think we should all calm down and get out of this hallway.”

“Maybe I would if you’d just return my calls!” Xander shot back.

“I would rather eat my whole entire head than ever return your call!” Cordelia nearly screamed.

“Cordelia—” Willow started, her voice all wobbly.

“Can it, homewrecker.” Cordelia lifted her hand to block out Willow’s face. Willow’s expression crumpled.

A strong chill blasted past them and the lights flickered on and off. “Oh my god,” Cordelia said in a panicked voice.

“What’s going on?” Zach, now free from Spike’s grip, began backing away.

“I don’t…” Buffy’s eyes darted around the hallway frantically. She  _felt_ something, all around them, through the chill air, and it filled her with dread. “Spike, do you feel that?”

“Every bit of it.” Spike’s body tensed, fingers twitching as he tilted his head curiously. “Something’s very hungry.”

Then, suddenly, the lights extinguished and a frigid wind blew around them. A dark, dripping voice reverberated around the room:

_“You’re all going to die._ ”

The lights flickered back on. Xander, Willow, and Cordelia were frightened, nervously moving a little closer to Buffy and Spike. Zach was absolutely terrified.

“W-what was that?” he asked shakily. “Man, I knew I should’ve skipped detention. No one in the school has died for weeks!”

“There’s a big bad prowling around here, and right now it’s looking for the nummiest treat,” Spike answered with a low, amused voice.

“What’s so funny?” Buffy gave him an odd look.

“Nothing. ‘S just, we all know who’s dying first.”

“Who?” Xander asked, intrigued despite himself.

“Blondie boy, here.”

They all stared at Zach.

“Why me?” Zach spluttered.

“Not part of the main group, are you?” Spike pointed at Willow, Xander, and then Buffy, “You’ve got your main trio,” he nodded at Cordelia, “the cranky side story who won’t have her own moment ‘til she leaves the Hellmouth, probably,” he pointed at his own chest, “an’ me. Handsome villain who’s been around enough to be part o’ the club. Nobody knows who you are, kid. Sadly those are the first to go.”

Zach gulped, turning to the others for support.

Xander shrugged a little wistfully. “Sorry, but the guy does have a point. Every monster movie would agree.”

“I-I don’t want to die. That’s not fair!” Zach wailed.

“Nobody’s dying and nobody’s going first,” Buffy said harshly. “We just need to stick together and  _think_. Zach,” she turned to him urgently. “We were all trapped in the detention room until you walked out. Somehow you unlocked it. Do you want to try doing it again through the front entrance?”

“I did something?” he asked uncertainly. Buffy nodded. “Oh…um, okay sure?”

“Great. Off we go,” Spike pushed Zach bodily towards the front entrance. Buffy rubbed her arms worriedly, the cold getting even more biting.

They stood in a line as Zach reached the door. He swallowed thickly and glanced back. They all gestured for him to continue.

The second Zach reached for the handle, his arm was thrown back.

“Um, is that supposed to happen?”

“Son of a bitch,” Spike growled. He whirled on Buffy. “Why isn’t it working anymore?”

“How would I know?” Buffy said exasperatedly.

“Something must be different now th-than the last time Zach tried,” Willow offered, frowning at Zach as he tried to reach for the door again.

“Well, he was definitely not scared the last time,” Cordelia said off-handedly as she flattened her hands over her skirt. “And not nearly as much yelling.”

Buffy paused. Her mind raced as she slowly put it together. “That’s it,” Buffy said slowly, her eyes flickering over everyone. “Somehow the school is…mimicking, or feeding off our energy. It gets colder when there’s an argument happening.”

“And it was really warm in that room when Zach walked through the doorway,” Cordelia’s eyes widened with realization. “He was happy!”

“So, what, we have to be  _suuuper_ happy to break the spell?” Xander frowned. “Think happy thoughts?”

“I think it’s worth a shot.” Willow looked around hopefully at everyone else.

Buffy shrugged. Spike eyes rolled but he said nothing as they all closed their eyes, thinking deeply.

After a full minute, Cordelia was the first to break the silence. “This isn’t working.”

“ _Shhhh!_ ”

A few seconds later: “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Zach admitted in a small voice.

“For the love of—” Spike groaned, when the lights began flickering again.

“Oh, god,” Willow moaned.

The lights went out. A loud shriek filled the air, a cold front blasting against them again. “Grab on to someone!” Buffy yelled. Through the darkness hands reached out for support—a warm hand wrapped around Buffy’s elbow. Her own hand fisted soft leather.

A flash, almost like lightning, cut through the darkness. Buffy felt all of her breath seize up in her lungs when she saw the outline of a massive demon, shrouded in shadow, appear before them.

The lights came back. Cordelia screamed.

Zach was lying on the floor, eyes blown wide and visible frost dotting around his lips and eyelashes.

“Oh god, oh god,” Xander backed away until he bumped into a wall. “Is he dead?”

Buffy rushed forward and dropped to her knees. She pressed two fingers to his carotid artery. “He’s alive,” Buffy confirmed. “I think he’s just stunned.”

“D-did everyone see that?” Willow stammered, her voice verging on breaking. “We all saw that, right?”

“Great big mountain-sized demon? Yeah, Willow, I think we all saw it,” Xander answered unsteadily. “I’m gonna take a wild guess and say he’s the one that stunned poor Zachary here.”

“We—we have to do something! We can’t just leave him here!”

“We’ll have to, Willow,” Buffy replied quietly. She stood back up. “We need to see if anybody else is in the school and make sure this demon doesn’t get to them.”

“Where would we even start?” Cordelia asked.

“We know Snyder is here. We’ll go to the principal’s office first.” Buffy’s mouth thinned into a line. “I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I know do know this: the demon feeds off fear. Zach was scared out of his mind, especially once Spike told him he’d be the first to go.” She threw a glare at Spike, who merely shrugged. “No more arguments. Any issue you have with each other ends here. If we’re going to survive, we’re gonna have to be…” Buffy sighed heavily, “cheerful.”

**-:-**

The walk from the entrance hallway to the second floor was brisk and wrought with nerves. They passed classroom after classroom and found several teachers inflicted with the same chilled petrification, slumped over their desks or fallen on the floor.

When they reached Snyder’s office, Buffy swung open the door.

They stared.

And promptly turned back around.

“Alright so, we know he’s not the demon doing this,” Xander tried joking.

“Obviously,” Cordelia muttered under her breath.

“Hey, I’m just trying to diffuse the tension.”

“What do we do now?” Willow asked. “I wish I knew a spell to break this one. If only we knew why this was happening.”

“One of the great mysteries,” Xander agreed, and Cordelia rolled her eyes.

“We’ll figure something out. Just—remember, think positive,” Buffy gave a winning smile.

“You’re right, Buff. A cheery disposition can get us out in any situation,” Xander grinned.

“Oh, someone put a stake in me.”

They all turned to face Spike.

“Of course, some of us are allergic to concepts of joy,” Xander pointed out.

“Are all of you so thick that you can’t see what’s right in front of you?” Spike said incredulously. He looked at Buffy, and she raised an eyebrow. “It’s obvious what’s going on here.”

“Feel free to educate us, Spike. What is going on?” Buffy said dryly.

Spike shook his head in wonder. “The whole lot of you. You’re drowning in misery from guilt. Anger. Hurt. This one here’s clearly snogged Red,” he pointed at Xander. Willow’s shoulders slumped guiltily and she looked away. “Last I heard you were with Cordelia, yeah?”

“Never again.” Cordelia gave Xander a look of pure loathing.

“An’ last I saw you and Peaches were grand ol’ friends and now? Haven’t heard you mention the ponce once the entire time I’ve been here. That has to be a record.” Buffy’s mouth pursed and she clenched her jaw. The corner of Spike’s lips smirked. “I knew it.”

“And you’ve been dumped by Drusilla.  _Again_.” Buffy retaliated. She savored the little flinch behind Spike’s gaze before his expression hardened.

“Yeah, there’s me. An’ with all of us crowded in one tiny school, we may as well’ve given off a bat signal for fear demons to flock towards us.” Spike narrowed his eyes. “Thinking good thoughts won’t get us out of this bollocks. He’s already here. He’s going to pick you lot off, one by one, drawn to your guilt and your loneliness, and strike when you’re most terrified.”

Buffy hated when Spike was right. He was right an uncanny amount, and he’d seen through all of them like wet tissue paper. Buffy closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. “So how do we stop it?”

Freezing cold air whirled around them. “Oh god, not again,” Willow whimpered.

“Don’t be afraid!” Buffy yelled loudly over the wind. “Don’t think! Just don’t think!”

The lights went out. Buffy staggered back into Spike and cool hands came up to hold her tightly.

“NO!” she heard Xander shout.

The shadow of the demon flashed again, this time larger than before. Just as quickly it disappeared.

The lights came back on, and Xander was on the ground.

“Oh god,” Buffy breathed. Spike was still holding her, one hand clamped on her bicep and his other arm wrapped around her. Shrugging out of his grasp, Buffy barely made one step before the lights went out again.

A bolt of light, and the demon was right in front of her. Tall, hunched over her with a menacing grin. It had come for her now.

“ _Slayer_ ,” he wheezed in a thready voice.

Fear did not fill Buffy. Buffy was a Slayer, and while she was always afraid for her life, she’d left the fear of demons somewhere under a broken church inside a pool of water where she’d once drowned.

Tilting her head, Buffy looked the demon straight in the eye. “Aren’t you one ugly looking bastard.”

The demon recoiled, a loud shriek piercing through the air. She watched with surprise as the demon visibly shrank in size, stumbling back.

The lights came back on and by then, the demon had already disappeared.

Willow and Cordelia stared at her in shock.

“Nice work, love,” Spike said behind her, looking impressed.

“It didn’t take you,” Willow said with wonder.

Buffy nodded. “Yeah. I guess not.”

“Xander,” said Cordelia, a slight tremor in her voice, “he protected us. Pushed us back so he would…”

Buffy didn’t need to hear the rest. She knew exactly of Xander’s habit of sacrificing himself for the sake of someone else.

“If that demon comes after you, you can’t show him you’re afraid. Anything but afraid. He’ll take you the moment you do.”

“Is that what you did?” Willow asked hesitantly. “Y—you looked right at him and weren’t afraid?”

“Yep. I was a smartass, but I didn’t show him I was afraid of him. And I’m not. You don’t have to be either.”

“You know, it’s a little warmer now.” Cordelia noted.

Buffy looked between Spike, Cordelia, and Willow. “Our only next option is to head to the library and find this demon in one of the books. Once we do that, we can figure out how to kill it and get the hell out of here.”

“You won’t hear any complaints from here, Slayer,” said Spike, surprising her again with his acquiescence and the lack of edge in his words. Trust Spike to know when to kick a fuss and when survival was imperative. “Lead the way.”

**-:-**

They split off once they reached the library—Willow and Cordelia huddled around a set of books they’d picked out from below while Buffy and Spike searched through the stacks.

“Could always look separately, pet,” Spike suggested. “It’d be faster.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Buffy gave him a hard look. “You might be on our side right now, but I still don’t trust you.”

A chill filled the air.

Spike noticed and scarred eyebrow ticked up. “Careful with that, Slayer. You’ll call that demon back at this rate.”

She swallowed her retort. He was right—she was being snippy for no reason.

“So, you and Angel really called it quits.”

Buffy clenched her jaw but said nothing, focusing on the row of books before her.

“Can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve known him a bit longer than you; he’s the type of ponce who leaves.”

“I called it.”

Spike paused. “What’s that?”

Buffy turned to face him, her mouth set in a grim line. “I called it off. Me. After…” She swallowed thickly. She shook off the rising unhappiness and set her jaw. “After you left. Right after you left, I ended things with Angel permanently.”

She couldn’t decipher the strange look in Spike’s gaze so she turned around and ran her finger along the spine of a book, pretending to pay attention to what she was reading.

“Why?” Spike asked when he found his voice.

Buffy closed her eyes. “Because you were right.” She opened them and looked up at Spike. “I can’t be friends with him. It hurts too much.” She laughed bitterly. “You were right.”

Spike didn’t reply. He wouldn’t look at her. Buffy went back to actually trying to find the right demon book when he finally spoke. “Dru thinks I’m in love with you.”

Buffy’s head whipped up and she stared at him in shock.

“Barmiest thing you ever heard, yeah?” Spike laughed. “But it’s true. She can’t abide it and she won’t see past it. Was the truce, you know.” He glanced down, shaking his head. “That bloody truce.”

“I’m sorry,” Buffy said sincerely.

“Why? I came to you with the idea. We both agreed to it.”

“Still.”

Spike traced a black fingernail along the side of the bookcase. “I haven’t been on my own in a hundred and twenty odd years. Even before I turned into a vampire, I was never alone. Had my mum, my home. For the first time in my life, I’m completely alone.”

“I know the feeling,” Buffy replied quietly.

Spike’s gaze snapped to hers. “No, you don’t.”

Buffy recoiled as if slapped. “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be alone? Being a Slayer  _is_  being alone. You have no idea what it’s like.”

“You have friends. You have a good mum who’s still kickin’ it in this world. You have your Watcher, your classmates, those little friendships that’ll go away soon as you graduate but still there; tenuous, but there.”

Buffy tried to stop the tremble in her voice. “Then why do I still feel alone?”

Spike stared at her with an unreadable expression. Then, before she could react, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.

And really, Buffy would have pushed him away. It was Spike—this was beyond gross. She would have totally pushed him off and nipped this in the bud. But she was in the stacks away from sight, and her heart was bruised and hurting and a lump was still in her throat, and she thought that allowing herself to feel something nice—even for a few moments—couldn’t possibly be so terrible.

So instead, Buffy closed her eyes and leaned in, letting her lips move against him in one small parry, one little acceptance. She felt Spike sigh against her mouth and tilted his head, kissing her deeply.

Oh. OH.

It turned out that Spike was really,  _really_  good at the kissing thing.

Her back hit the side of a bookshelf and Buffy stifled a moan, her arms wrapping around Spike’s neck. He sipped kisses from her thoroughly, luxuriously, until she almost felt drugged. When she pulled away for air he kissed her cheek, behind her ear, her eyebrow, until Buffy sucked in another breath and pulled Spike’s mouth back to hers (a little more didn’t hurt, right?).

It was also getting hot. Wildly hot. Not the normal level of hot when you’re shoving your tongue down your sworn enemy’s throat like your life depended on it, but the demony kind of hot where things were about to get a bit explody.

“Fuck, love,” Spike murmured against her mouth, fervently kissing down her throat. “Want to taste every inch of you.”

“Oh god,” Buffy breathed, eyes fluttering.

She heard a soft chuckle and her eyes flew open.

“Don’t laugh at me.”

“Wasn’t laughing at you,” Spike frowned, licking his lips. “You’ve any idea what your body is doin’ to me?”

It was then that Buffy registered just how tightly she was holding onto Spike and just  _what_ her hips had been doing, flush against his.

“I—I’m…this is wrong.” She started to pull away.

“No, Slayer. No. This is exactly where we need to be.” He pressed cold fingers against her forehead and it came back with droplets of sweat. Buffy’s eyes widened.

It was hot— _boiling_ —and it was entirely because of them.

“Do you think…?” Buffy trailed off, stunned.

“That we’re slowly reversing the spell? That that demon will shrink down to the size of a penny if we keep at this?” Spike’s gaze bore into hers, the words he held back clear in his heavy-lidded eyes.

Buffy licked her lips and glanced behind the bookshelf. “Willow and Cordelia…”

Spike arched a brow.

**-:-**

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Buffy announced to Willow and Cordelia, who were sitting at a table with books spread around them.

Willow frowned. “Okay?”

Buffy pointed at Spike. “He’s coming with me.”

“Ew, why?” Cordelia made a face.

“I’m the only one who can fight him. I won’t risk leaving him here with you two.”

Willow and Cordelia gave that a thought, and ultimately nodded.

Buffy beamed. “Awesome.” She forced her expression to twist into a deep set frown as she regarded Spike. “Come on, you big…dumb guy.”

“’M quaking in my boots,” Spike rolled his eyes as he followed her to the restroom inside the library.

The minute they closed the door Spike turned the latch and hauled Buffy against the door. “Now, Slayer,” he said in a low, dripping voice full of quiet glee, “let’s see if we can turn this place into a bloody inferno.”

Very rarely—as in never—had Buffy ever felt a pool of wetness flood into her panties from words alone, but Spike’s promise of sin did just that.

She held back a shiver as his hands grazed over the frilly lace sleeves of her white top, a cute outfit she’d picked out this morning to go with a black skirt and boots that now felt like the front cover of a porno mag.

She should feel guilty that Spike was peeling off her top and staring at her like she was the winner, winner, chicken dinner. Or that he was kissing her again in that devilish way that sucked her lower lip and bit it lightly, soothing it with his tongue before deepening their kiss.

She should, and likely would, much later, but this was for mankind. It was for science and for saving human lives and Xander didn’t sacrifice himself only to  _not_ to be rescued, and right now doing naughty things with Spike in a restroom that Giles had probably used countless times sounded all the more appealing than doing nothing and wallowing in all of her post-Angel sorrow.

Spike snapped off her bra, and Buffy froze.

It was still in his hand when she stared at him, eyes blown wide and terrified.

She didn’t think she’d be terrified. Why was she terrified? She shouldn’t be, this was fine—this was safe and consensual and she should be  _fine_.

“Love?”

Buffy stared at the bra in his hand, not realizing she’d covered her breasts with her arms.

“Buffy.” Blue eyes filled her vision. Spike looked at her worriedly. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t think I can do this.” Buffy shook her head rapidly. The air was getting colder by the second. “Sorry. S—sorry.”

Spike nodded, looking at her in a way that made Buffy avoid his stare. He knew.

Wordlessly, Spike held out her bra for her arms to slip through. She chanced a glance up at him and felt a small bit of relief at the nonjudgment reflected back at her. “Thank you,” Buffy murmured, and slipped her arms through. He kept his eyes on hers, and something about this—the way he was…made Buffy pull him against her all the same, a thin piece of fabric held between their bodies.

She kissed him. It was slower, warmer. Their mouth moved in the slightly artless but just as exciting way that had their lips make a loud smack as they parted. It made Buffy grin.

“He was wrong,” said Spike, his eyes boring through hers. “So fucking wrong.”

Buffy closed her eyes. “Maybe.”

Spike shook his head, his jaw working. “You were a virgin.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“No. It meant something, and he hurt you the most painful way he could.”

Yeah, he definitely knew everything.

“He definitely did that,” Buffy replied, a bitter edge in her voice. “This sucks. I can’t—” The lump returned in her throat. “I didn’t think I’d freeze but I did. And I hate that I did. I hate that Angelus still has power over me. I don’t want him to.”

“Then don’t.” Spike shrugged. “Take the power back in your pleasure.”

Buffy shook her head and looked away. Spike sighed.

“Let me tell you something, Slayer. Not that you need reminding of this bit, but Angelus is a bastard and a liar.”

“You can say that again.”

Spike held his fingertips under her jaw and tilted her head up to meet his stare. “He said what he did to a sixteen year old girl who’d given herself to his souled past. You infuriated him. He’d go on and on, railing against you, thinking of ways to get in your head. Now he’s in your head still, and that’s just what he wanted.”

“I already knew all that,” Buffy said impatiently. “I know he’s in my head. I know my instinct here is wrong, but I can’t…” She shrugged helplessly. “How do I stop it?”

“Take. Your power. Back.” Spike stepped back from Buffy and leveled her with a serious look. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

Buffy’s lips parted in surprise.

Her mind started racing. She was in the library restroom half naked with Spike. She’d kissed Spike, her enemy, someone she loathed, over and over and didn’t feel the least bit of remorse over it. But now, with cold reality having reared its head, she had no excuse  _not_  to think about what she was about to do.

The options weighed heavily in her mind. She could go back outside to the land of research and fear demons and flickering lights, or…

“Take off your jacket.”

…do that.

Spike’s tongue curled up in his mouth and he did just that.

“And the red shirt. Keep the black one on.”

More fabric fell to the floor.

Buffy paused there, swallowing thickly as her thoughts darted in indecision. “What else, Slayer?” Spike prodded, tilting his head.

She released a shuddering breath. “Kiss me until I can’t breathe.”

Spike drew close to her and took her face in his hands. Buffy briefly wondered why he was doing this. Hadn’t he come here to kill her? Hadn’t she planned to do the same? It felt so far away now but it had only been two hours ago. She recalled, as Spike’s mouth plundered hers, that Dru thought Spike was in love with her.

She finally gasped for breath and Spike pulled away, pressing his forehead against hers.

“What else?”

“Again.”

Buffy moaned when Spike’s mouth melted against hers again, intense and with the slightest hint of fang that had her insides throbbing.

When he pulled away the second time, Buffy shrugged out of the bra. “Here. Kiss me all over here.”

A sly smile lifted one corner of his mouth but Spike didn’t say a word. She supposed if he wanted to tease her he would’ve, but must’ve sensed that now was not the best time for it. Instead, he dropped little kisses down her chest, around her breast, and just when she was going to order his lips to go where she wanted, he fastened his mouth around a nipple.

“Oh,” Buffy breathed, her eyes shuttering closed. “Mmmm…”

“You like that?”

“Mhm.”

He lavved and swirled his tongue around her little bud before lightly scraping his teeth, sending a jolt through her body and a fresh wave of wetness between her legs.

She didn’t even realize when she said, “Go down.”

The grin Spike gave Buffy was that of a cat who was about to have the tastiest canary.

The tiny bathroom was getting hotter and hotter, which meant they were right on track. Buffy turned her head to glance at the mirror and saw herself, pleasantly flushed with swollen lips. It was a good look.

Cold hands ran up and down her legs, squeezing her thighs. Spike kissed and nipped her skin, hiking up until he reached the zip on her skirt. “Can I take this off?”

Licking her lips, Buffy nodded.

When her skirt fell away Spike kissed up her thigh, fingers snaking into the band of her panties before glancing up at her in a wordless question. When she nodded, the cutest pair of her underwear collection went  _rip._

“Hey!”

Spike grinned, unrepentant as he shoved the torn panties in his back pocket. “Gotta give a bloke somethin’.”

He didn’t give her all that much time to be annoyed when he kissed her mound. “Ooh.”

“Yeah? So bloody soft, you are. Spread for me a bit, love.”

Buffy let him shift her legs apart for him to shove himself in between. The first lick he made along her slit had her gasping.

Buffy looked down at him. Spike was already watching her, eyes gleaming mischievously. “Do that again,” Buffy said weakly.

**-:-**

“I wonder what’s taking so long,” Willow wondered, glancing unsurely in the direction of the bathroom.

Cordelia, who had noticed the temperature rising by the minute, merely dropped a heavy book in front of Willow. “Try this one.”

**-:-**

“Oh god—oh  _god_ ,” Buffy panted. Her leg was draped over Spike’s shoulder and a hand was fisted in his hair, urging him on. If she had doubted it before, it was confirmed right now that Spike was pure evil. His evil tongue was doing an evil set of swirls around her clit that had her muscles jumping, her lower abdomen shuddering as she rolled her groin against his face.

A particularly evil suck on her nub had her pulling desperately on his hair, causing Spike to growl against her wet flesh. He pulled back slightly and wrapped a hand behind her other knee that was not currently dangling on his shoulder.

“Lift up,” Spike urged.

“Can’t.” Buffy shook her head breathlessly. “Gonna fall.”

“Won’t fall. I’ve got you Slayer, trust me.”

Buffy blinked down at Spike and saw the haze of lust reflected back in his eyes. Slowly, unsurely, she let him support her weight and felt Spike hold her up like she weighed nothing.

She started doubting the not-falling theory when he wrapped his lips around her clit and slipped a finger inside her. She groaned at the feeling, her inner muscles having been clenching desperately on empty air earlier, and she pulsed around him.

“Yeah, just like that, Slayer,” Spike moaned into her. “Just. Like. That.”

“I’m supposed to be— _oh!_ —giving the orders,” Buffy gasped as his finger curled inside her, probing.

“Not an order,” Spike nibbled against her clit, sending throbbing pleasure through her body, “just pure appreciation.”

His finger stroked against a bundle of flesh that made her hips jump. He did it again, and again, and Buffy started thrashing a bit as she desperately tried containing her moans.

“Spike,” her breath hitched, “Oh—ah! I can’t—” She tried getting closer and tried getting away, the pleasure more intense than anything she’d ever experienced. Spike had found all her hot buttons and was igniting them relentlessly, until her whole body shuddered and a keening wail escaped her, the beginnings of orgasm cresting through her.

“That’s right. Let it go, baby. Gimme all your cum.” Spike gave her clit one final swirling suck and curled his finger, and Buffy’s legs clamped around his head as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her body.

Her whole body was sensitized, trembling and twitching as Spike gently set Buffy on her feet, catching her when she started to tumble down and pressing her firmly against the door. When her mind stopped floating off Buffy looked up at Spike, staring at the wetness on and around his mouth. The air was burning hot now, and the walls had started to tremble and groan, but Buffy could only think about slamming Spike’s mouth against hers and jumping up to wrap her legs around his hips.

Groaning loudly, Spike grabbed her thigh and ground against her. Her flesh was still sensitive but by god she wanted more, wanted to give  _him_ something. She rolled her hips back, thrusting against the hard bulge behind the denim.

“God, Slayer.  _Yes._ ” Spike’s fingers dug into her thigh as they moved against each other, reveling in the friction despite Spike still being fully clothed. His hand slammed into the doorjamb beside her head while his other slid up to grab her hip, pulling her into his thrusts against her bare flesh.

Her own orgasm was building again and Buffy held onto him tightly. The heat was almost unbearable but she couldn’t stop, won’t stop until—

“Oh god—OW! The wall!” Buffy suddenly threw her body fully against Spike’s and sent him tumbling to the ground. Their hips slammed together and she felt his jerk up just as Buffy gasped out her own orgasm.

Several panting minutes later, Spike murmured aloud, “We fell.”

“Yeah,” Buffy nodded against his throat. “The wall got burning hot.”

Thinking about what got it that hot had both of them break into smiles.

“So,” Buffy leaned up on her elbows and peered down at him. “Think we broke the spell?”

Spike sighed. “Only one way to find out.”

**-:-**

“…Huh.”

Buffy, Willow, Cordelia, and Spike stared down at the little boy glaring angrily at them.

“Looks like an Oompa Loompa,” Buffy said.

“Spike, eat him,” Cordelia turned to him.

“Over my undead body. I don’t want to catch any diseases from it.”

“You think you’ll be happy forever? Pah!” The angry boy-demon glared up at him. “You’ll be begging me to come back.”

“What is that, three feet? I think he’s three feet tall,” Willow guessed. “A toddler demon?”

“Don’t let the age fool you. That son of a bitch knocked out your entire school,” Spike glowered at the kid.

“Well we have to do something. We can’t just let him loose because he looks like a child.” Buffy worried her lower lip.

“If you throw him off the roof I’m pretty sure these buggers poof into sand,” Spike suggested.

Buffy smiled.

**-:-**

The school awoke, cold and confused. Everyone was dismissed by an extremely irate Snyder and Xander, still working on a crick in his neck, declared the only course of action now was to head to the Bronze and drink a heavy amount of sugary soda.

Buffy stalled back as the others disappeared down the street. She glanced at the parking lot, catching sight of Spike’s car and headed towards it.

A shiver went up her neck. Buffy turned around and came face-to-face with the vampire himself.

“I was promised a battle,” Spike said, his eyes lofty as he shoved his hands in his duster pockets.

“You were,” Buffy agreed. Pursing her lips, Buffy added, “Can it include curly fries?”

Smirking, Spike and yanked open the passenger door to the Desoto.


End file.
